Adlewood Academy

Jocelyn often questioned what she was even doing at Adlewood after a long day of classes where she did nothing but stumble, trip, and fall all over herself. She knew these moves – she could do them better than anyone – but no one would ever be able to see that. Her instructors could see it though – her frustrations and anger at herself – when she danced. The fact that she displayed such vivid emotion even when she was messing things up was the precise reason she was at Adlewood but it didn’t seem like enough for her. She wanted to be good – no, she wanted to be phenomenal.

Because she couldn’t dance properly with an audience, save for in swing when she and Niall had a blast, she was often found in one of the studios until the late hours of the evening practicing over and over again until her toes felt broken and her body thoroughly beaten down. Lana liked to lecture her about it, but she still found herself in the same empty room as every other night so she could dance without any eyes on her. It was the only time of day she ever felt relaxed anymore and she wouldn’t let that slip away.

The day had been particularly agitating. For starters her modern dance instructor, Miss Vivienne Alexander, was harder on her than usual. She hadn’t liked her the first day of class – with her perfectly tanned skin, luscious brown hair with just enough highlights to make it glow like a halo, her beautifully bright blue eyes the color of the Mediterranean, and the fact that her body was perfect enough to make Barbie jealous. She was too pretty, too perfect, and happened to be quite the drill sergeant in the studio. Any misstep that Jocelyn took was caught by her very watchful eyes and she always, always pointed it out to the others.

Needless to say, it was the last class she needed when she already had horrid stage fright.

After modern dance, she had gone to her ballet technique class and she continued to mess up royally every time she so much as moved. Miss Alexander always threw her off her game and she hated that she had it right before ballet. She knew her instructors were getting tired of dealing with her and she felt like it was only a matter of time before she would be called to the dean to have a discussion about her future … outside of Adlewood. The thought chilled her entire body as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her head.

She ate her dinner hurriedly, much to Lana’s humorously shocked and horrified expression, to get her studio that night. It was her favorite one where it wasn’t too cold or too dark and it had windows facing the city lights that made her feel calmer at once. She dropped her bag with a deep sigh and looked around at the dim lighting coming through the large windows. She flipped on the lights and blinked momentarily before she started putting on her pointe shoes and turned to stretch out a little.

She didn’t know that, about forty minutes into her practice that she had an audience. She was usually pretty good at sensing eyes on her since she felt the disapproving glances from her teachers at least four times a day but she hadn’t because she was so into her dancing. The watcher hadn’t been looking for her, but had been simply going back to his room to retrieve the cell phone he had left behind and saw movement from one of the studio rooms as he made to turn off the light while he passed. At first he couldn’t see who it was that was dancing so gracefully and powerfully but when she paused to sip from her water bottle he stood, amazed.

Jocelyn Turner. And he had no idea she could move like that.

She had barely start to move again when she had the sensation she was no longer alone and turned to the door and tripped over her own feet, startled. “Mr. Payne … I’m sorry, they said that I could – I didn’t know, but I assumed that it was okay – I was only -”

“Whoa, slow down. It’s quite all right – the rooms are open for the students to use for a reason, Miss Turner. I couldn't help but watch a moment … I haven’t seen you dance like that before.”

Jocelyn flushed all over – head to toe. Her mother was the only one that had ever caught her while she danced in her comfortable environment and that had only happened once, years ago. She suddenly felt more exposed than if he had walked in on her in the shower. “Um … yes … I …”

“Stage fright is completely normal and also treatable.” He said with a soft smile and walked further into the room with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Jocelyn was lovely and perhaps that was why she continuously caught his eyes but he also felt like he had met her before, though she was three years younger than him. He liked her soft reddish-brown hair and lively green eyes. He really liked her long and lean legs, covered with her creamy pale skin. He was pretty good at not being attracted to his students - it was immoral and all - but Jocelyn turned his head like none of the others did.

“Unlikely. I’ve had it since I can remember. Even as a child … I never felt that hopeless abandon that other children did.”

“You must not have tried the proper medication, then. The best way to overcome stage fright is to work at it.”

“No offense, Mr. Payne, but I dance every day in front of others and it hasn’t done anything. In fact, I think it’s only worsened my fears.”

“That’s because you’re around too many people, and your fellow students whom you are competing with and teachers that are grading you.”

“That doesn’t leave me many options here.”

“It leaves you one, actually. My classes end fairly early on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I could meet with you and help you – one on one – until the showcase. It will help to build your confidence but also I will not be grading you so it will take away some of the fear of being judged.”

“Why would you help me?” She wondered vaguely if it had anything to do with the only time they ever interacted last year but doubted he even remembered that like she did.

“I’m a teacher – it’s what I do.”

“You don’t do one on ones with the other students.”

He shrugged and started to turn away. “They don’t need it like you do." He knew that he was partly lying - there was much more to it than that - but he couldn't tell anyone that. Especially not Jocelyn. "I’ll see you here tomorrow night after dinner. Bring your iPod … I find that music really helps.”

She wanted to protest but he was already gone.